Moira (a person's fate or destiny)
by Some1FoundMe
Summary: My name is Moira Joy Queen. Based on the prompt **Write about your first name – why you were given it, what associations or stories are attached to it, what do you think it means? Do the same for your last name. Given the chance, would you change it?**


**Title:** Moira (a person's fate or destiny)

 **Author:** Some1FoundMe

 **Rating:** K

 **Summary:** My name is Moira Joy Queen. Based on the prompt **Write about your first name – why you were given it, what associations or stories are attached to it, what do you think it means? Do the same for your last name. Given the chance, would you change it?**

 **Moira (a person's fate or destiny)**

My name is Moira Joy Queen. Weird, right? Trust me, I know. I've always known. Which is why I've never gone by Moira. I've been Mo since I was old enough to speak although – at that age – it was because Moira isn't exactly easy to say when you can't say much. The only people who have ever called me anything but Mo are my parents. Surprise, surprise. You understand how that goes. When I stay out past curfew and Dad is lecturing me, it's always "Moira Joy". When I fail an AP Chem exam because I refuse to prove to the teacher that I understand the steps to get the answer (What does that matter? If I know the answer because I can work it out in my head, why should I have to show my work?) that argument usually results in a "Moira Joy" from Mom.

William has never called me Moira. Not in sixteen years and I know he never will. To my big brother I've always been MJ. Which is cool. I like MJ. I like it mostly because it's a thing between my brother and me. He's the only one who calls me that.

Aunt Thea, Uncle Digg and Aunt Lyla, they all call me Mo. My cousin Sara – who is my best friend and the closest thing I'll ever have to a sister – calls me Mo-Jo.

But no, no one outside of my parents has ever called me Moira Joy.

I know where my name comes from. At least, I do now. It had never occurred to me to ask. I mean, what difference does it make where your name comes from? It isn't like I can go back in time sixteen years and make Mom and Dad change it. But now that I know… now that I know who she was, it makes the name a little easier to bear.

My grandmother's name was Moira. Moira Deaden Queen. And she was, well, according to Mom, she was something else. But mostly, she was a strong woman. A woman who did whatever she had to do to protect her family. Sure, she made mistakes. She nearly got my dad killed on their yacht back in the day (that story came courtesy of Aunt Thea and man, Dad was not happy when he found out I knew) and she was a part of a group of people that was responsible for destroying a part of our city. Hundreds of people died. But she also admitted to her mistakes. She saved lives in the quake that rocked the Glades by going on TV and warning people what was coming. And she is the reason my dad and Aunt Thea are alive. Besides the fact that she gave birth to them, she also stood in front of a madman and sacrificed herself to save her children. So she wasn't all good, but she had her moments. And she was strong. Which, I've learned, is why my parents gave me her name.

I spent five days in a coma. Car accident. And while I was out I heard every word. Every prayer that my family whispered, every tear that Mom and Dad cried. They talked to me. Everyone talked to me. They told me stories. Asked me to come back to them. Told me to be strong like her. To be strong like my grandma.

It was Dad who told me the story of my name. He'd been holding my hand, squeezing it, fighting off tears. If I'd been conscious, I would've cried with him. It isn't often that I see my dad like that. He's a rock, my dad. He's always the one that holds us together, Mom and me. But when he talked about my grandma…

They gave me her name in the hope that it would give me strength. That she would look down on me the day I was born – 5 weeks early and so, so small – and that she would keep me strong. That her presence would protect me and allow them to keep me. Because everyone had been so sure that I wasn't going to survive those first few days. Moira is Greek. It means 'a person's fate or destiny' and, apparently, it was my destiny to survive premature birth and a handful of life-threatening injuries.

Joy, of course, is another word for happiness. Felicity – Mom's name – means happiness.

Dad says I was named after the two strongest women he's ever known.

My last name is easy. Queen. Royalty. I guess there was a time when my family considered themselves royalty. Not Mom. She wasn't around at that point. But my grandparents and my dad, even Aunt Thea. They were 'The Queens' and in Star City, the name meant something. Now, don't get me wrong, I know that it still does, but for a completely different reason. When Dad was growing up, it meant money and power. The family company, Queen Consolidated, was a big deal in our city. It employed a lot of people and it made my family rich. But it also made my dad and aunt spoiled. Dad… well, Dad's past is easy enough to Google. I mean, the guy was arrested for peeing on a cop car. Not his finest hour. And Aunt Thea. Well, she wrecked her brand new car on her sixteenth birthday while high. So, yeah, being a Queen hasn't always been a good thing.

But now, it's a privilege. Queen Incorporated – my mom's company – is an important part of our city. And she – and her partner Curtis – they're geniuses. Innovative geniuses who've made leaps and bounds in the field of medical technology. It's the same technology that helped my mom walk again. The same technology that saved my life after an eighteen-wheeler hit my car and pushed me across three lanes of traffic.

So you want to know if I would change my name, given the chance? The answer is no. Because I'm proud of who I am. Of the family that I come from.

My name is Moira Joy Queen.


End file.
